


Dragonriders

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Female Bilbo, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T'rin, rider of bronze Orcrith, agrees to undertake a difficult task while trying to figure out his emotions for the newest member of his Wing - Billa, rider of green Eilinth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragonriders

**Author's Note:**

> Ah...this was done for a challenge and it got away from me. The first chapter is for the challenge and I'm making it a WIP because I want to know what happens next! 
> 
> _*THIS IS TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION*_ \- whenever you see it in the story.
> 
> For Hobbit fans - if you don't know the Dragonriders of Pern series, you should go read it, but for the needs of this story, I am copying one of the best "short" summaries I've seen. This came from JudyL, not me and I make absolutely no claim to it. 
> 
> "Pern is a planet plagued by a deadly parasite that falls to earth on a fairly regularly cycle. ‘Thread’ as the parasite is called, devour any living matter in their path, plant, animal and human. The only thing that will destroy Thread is fire. The early settlers of Pern genetically enhanced the native ‘fire lizards,’ creating their larger cousins, dragons, to be flown against Threadfalls. The dragons of Pern can breathe fire and by searing Thread from the sky as it falls, they are able to prevent death and destruction caused by the tenacious parasite. Dragons are telepathic and bond with their human rider at hatching. The link between rider and dragon is soul-deep. The death of the rider always results in the dragon’s death. A rider whose dragon is killed usually dies soon thereafter as well. Dragons can also travel by teleportation, taking themselves between for the space of three breaths and reemerging at the place they have visualized. Riders must be careful to give their dragons accurate coordinates telepathically. A poorly visualized jump may lead to emerging from between too close to a wall or even underground resulting in the injury or death of the pair. Dragons come in five colors. The golden queen controls the Weyr (a weyr is the place where a dragon and rider live) and lays the eggs of future dragons. The bronze males, largest of the dragons except for the queen, are the ones who mate with the queen. Brown dragons are the next largest and also male. The blue males are smaller and more agile in the air than the huge bronzes and browns. Finally, the smallest of the dragons are the green females. They can lay eggs, but are sterile due to the special stones they must chew to breathe fire and fight Thread. Queens also fly against Thread, but their riders use flamethrowers to destroy the nemesis. A queen that chews fire-stone is ‘no better than a green.’ Hundreds of Turns ago, the Southern Continent was ‘seeded’ with a specialized grub that eats fallen Thread and keeps the vegetation from being destroyed. This experiment worked magnificently and thus the dragonriders in the South do not have to fly Threadfalls to protect the land. Though due to their training and their dragon’s insistence, they usually still do their duty. Dragonrider’s names are contracted when they Impress"

T’rin, rider of bronze Orcrith, folded his arms over his chest, frowning in contemplation as he watched the candidates march onto the sands of Benden’s Hatching Grounds. Spectators shifted and jostled each other in the galleries that seemed filled to overflowing. Benden Weyr, home of F’lar and Lessa – the Weyrleaders of Weyrleaders – still boasted the most visitors for every Hatching. Every major and minor Lord Holder or Craft Master looked forward to visiting Benden. They might or might not like the two leaders, but F’lar and Lessa held the reins of power and influence. Few people sought to offer them slight or insult – to their faces anyway.

Behind their backs… Well, conspiracies did happen – and some of those Oldtimers didn’t help.

A huff of breath escaped T’rin at the thought and he forced himself to focus on the white-clad women as they formed a loose circle around the gold egg. Three of the women in particular held his interest as they had been Searched by members of his Wing. B’lin, retired rider though he was, found two of them when he took his cousin, Master Healer Óin to visit the Crafthold. The sisters, daughters of a minor holder, possessed a minor blood connection to Weyrwoman Lessa, Rider of Ramoth. The younger of the two, Tilda he thought her name was, seemed too young to stand on the sands. She must have reached the minimum age recently. Her sister….Sigrid, that was the name, stood beside her, calm and watchful. 

Most of his attention focused on the third woman. Billa – he had no trouble remembering her name – talked with the others around her, laughing in a quiet way as she spoke. Her comments put the rest of the group at their ease, teasing smiles out of even the most nervous among them. When D’lin and N’ri first brought her in, T’rin thought them insane. How could this practical, fussy, fluttering little holder ever manage to bond with any dragon? Let alone a queen? They needed strong-minded women who could keep control and manage the Weyrs. He fully expected to be taking her back to her hold long before the Hatching ever arrived.

Damned if she didn’t prove him wrong!

Billa met every test, handled every problem, and flew through every class they gave her. She might stumble at the beginning, grouse and grumble about the change in her life, but then she would stand up, brush herself off, and stride right back to face whatever it was until she beat it. Her determination and her optimism won her friends at every level while her humility drew protectors to her. He still didn’t see her as a queen rider.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

A new noise could be heard over the murmuring of the crowd. The dragons began to hum, their deep voices penetrating rock and stone to vibrate within the chests of the watchers. People fell silent as all attention turned to the clutch of eggs.

“Should be soon.”

T’rin glanced over at the whisper to see his nephew and Wingsecond F’li shushing his younger brother. A glimmer of pride grew inside as he watched them. F’li and his bronze Aurelth and K’li with his brown Ivarth might be two of the youngest of his Wing, but they held the loyalty of all of his men….and Tauriel. T’rin glanced at the willowy figure sitting on K’li’s other side. Female riders – other than the queen riders – remained a definite minority, but one of their best rode in his Wing. Tauriel, rider of green Aubrith, could hold her own with any of the males. Better yet, in T’rin’s mind, her steadiness balanced out K’li’s more reckless attitude. It remained one of the biggest reasons he supported their permanent mating – uncommon as that might be.

Few dragonriders chose permanent partners – given the nature of their dragons, and the potency of the bonds between dragon and rider, choosing a permanent mate could be tricky. The mating heat of the dragons flowed into their riders and, particularly with the queen dragons and her bronze, those dragon matings would often determine the hierarchy of a Weyr. It gave the younger riders a goal and a hope – the potential of rising through the ranks without waiting for someone to retire or step down.

Or die. T’rin shook his head, willing such thoughts away. He did not want to think about Threadfall right now; did not want to consider how often the life of their people depended on the fragile wings of dragons and the courage of their riders. He forced his thoughts back to the issue of matings and permanent partnerships. If a queen, or even a green female rose to mating and a new dragon, not of the partnership, flew her?

Well, trouble could come of it. 

On the other hand, having a permanent partnership – rider to rider, dragon to dragon – often made for stronger Wings and less politics. The stability of the partnership spilled into other relationships as well as giving each member a sense of security. The constant need to prove one’s power, strength, and virility no longer hovered over those living in such a permanent bond.

T’rin could see both sides of the argument. When it came to his nephew? He came down in absolute favor of the permanent mating. Kíli quit throwing himself into precarious situations without giving it a moment’s thought. For that alone, he would call Tauriel family and stand up for them against any naysayers.

“The Gold! The Gold egg!”

Excited whispers broke out as the golden egg began to rock, cracks appearing on its surface. The bronze dragons, and their riders, grew intent on the Hatching once more. This would be a future queen – and mate. Should the whispers of a new Weyr prove true, then the rider chosen might become a new Weyrwoman as well, thus opening a position for all bronze riders – potential Weyrleader.

The rocking gained speed as the cracks began to widen.

A shout drew everyone’s attention across the room to where a bronze dragonet shook off the last of its shell and peered at the circle of boys gathered around him. The baby gave a small keen of inquisitive confusion before seeming to focus on one boy in particular and giving a trilling demand. The boy’s eyes grew wide and astonished – he seemed frozen in place. His companions gave him a small shove, laughing as they gestured towards the dragon. He almost tripped over his own feet, but he made it to the dragonet’s side, collapsing to his knees beside him. “His name is Elidyth!”

T’rin felt his lips curve into a fond smile. He still remembered that moment, the moment he knew he would never again be alone, in vivid detail. Even now his thoughts reached out to brush Orcrith’s. _*They seem so young.*_

Orcrith’s mental voice, a deep reverberation in T’rin’s mind, carried a fond remembrance as well as a heavy dose of humor. _*They **are** young – just as we were.*_

 _*What do you think of our candidates for the queen?*_ T’rin asked, his gaze shifting back to Billa and the sisters. 

_*They would all do well.*_ Orcrith mused. T’rin could almost feel the bronze dragon shifting in place until he too could peer down at the Hatching floor from where he perched high above of the rim of the Bowl. _*The little one…she would be better with a fighting dragon.*_

_*Don’t let Ramoth hear you say it that way.*_

Orcrith’s voice rumbled in a laugh. _*I would never,*_ he agreed. _*Still – the little one does not like to stay still long enough to be Weyrwoman. She should ride in a Wing.*_

 _*And the others?*_ T’rin prompted.

 _*The solemn one – she would make a good Weyrwoman. She is steady enough but also knows how to laugh. And for the last…*_ Something else entered Orcrith’s voice as it trailed away. A…fondness was the only way T’rin could think of it. It warmed the dragon’s voice as he continued. _*Billa would be a good Weyrwoman, but…she would be wasted. Billa should be in the middle of things where she can take care of people.*_

 _*Wait a minute…*_ T’rin came to an abrupt realization. _* **’Billa’**? Since when did you start using her name?*_

_*I like Billa.*_

T’rin turned his eyes in Orcrith’s general direction, a bewildered frown settling onto his face when the excitement in the Hatching Grounds hit a fever pitch. The queen egg gave a hard shudder…and then a second…and then….

The egg shattered, a fine mist of golden shards scattering everywhere. Some of the girls shrieked and flinched, but T’rin felt a burst of pride as the three women Searched by his riders rolled their eyes or gave incredulous looks. The gold dragonet gave herself a good shake and blinked at the women in curiosity, tilting her great head from side to side before yawning. Now she turned her multifaceted eyes towards the women T’rin watched so closely. He felt his breath catch – and heard F’li and K’li hold their own – as the queen took a shaky step forward.

The queen paused, looking from one to the other before she moved right, her eyes homing in on Sigrid as her voice rose in a hungry demand. Sigrid went pale, but she managed to stagger forward. Kneeling in front of the newborn dragon, she reached out a shaky hand. A brilliant smile blossomed on her face as the golden creature pushed her head into the outstretched hand. “Her name is Valeth!”

Cheers erupted in the stands.

T’rin grinned, pride and contentment coursing through him as he leaned against the pillar. B’lin, crafty old rider that he was, came through yet again. Sigrid would be the second queen rider found by B’lin and his bronze Farith. D’lin and his brown Fundith possessed some of the same gifts on Search, but his strengths lay with spotting those who would do well within the Wing itself – one of the reasons T’rin had been surprised when he showed up with Billa in tow.

_*Billa works well with the Wing.*_

Orcrith’s comment brought a reluctant agreement to T’rin’s mind. She did work with his people. Handling such a mixed up group of characters and personalities that made up his Wing took skill…and patience – of which she possessed a great deal more than he. As one of the first Searched, Billa ended up spending a great deal of time in the Weyr, working with almost everyone at one time or another out of an apparent inborn need to be polite and helpful. She spent the first few weeks as an outsider to almost everyone except D’lin and N’ri. People tolerated her, but they were not ready to be openly friendly to someone who might leave within a matter of months.

It took a bit of effort, but she found a chink in B’lin’s armor – asking him questions about the Weyr, its history and the various people and positions within it. He enjoyed teaching, especially when he had a willing pupil, and he became the first in a line of people to tumble from tolerance to friendship. Bombur, one of the lead chefs in the kitchens, fell after she shared a veritable treasure trove of recipes from her home as well as proving to have an excellent taste in wine – which drew Óin into her circle as well. 

“Look!”

K’li’s surprised voice drew T’rin out of his memories. He followed the brown rider’s pointing finger to see two green dragonets making their way across the space separating the newborn queen from the rest of the clutch. Some of the men and boys tried to intercept them, but the green’s pushed them away, intent on reaching the space where the women still gathered. T’rin noted the women in an absent-minded fashion as he worked out the direction of the greens. Some of them seemed jealous of Sigrid while others just looked relieved. Billa and Tilda appeared overjoyed – Tilda all but bouncing in place while Billa made sure Sigrid was kept supplied with meat to feed her hungry new charge.

He tilted his head. _*Just a moment…*_

 _*Someone better get Billa and the little one’s attention.*_ Orcrith’s mental laughter spilled into T’rin’s mind.

“Shards,” T’rin muttered.

“Billa?” Tauriel inquired, her voice soft and amused. “Tilda?”

“Both.”

F’li and K’li began laughing, the younger brother curling up and almost falling into Tauriel in his excess of humor. The green rider gave him a gentle nudge, manage to repress her own amusement until it remained no more than mischief dancing in her green eyes. T’rin glared at them and F’li pulled himself back under control. “Should we…?” He waved his hand as his voice trailed off. He tried again. “Should we call to them?”

T’rin cast his eyes to the sky in a bid for patience before turning back to the Hatching Grounds. He opened his mouth, intending to shout, but someone beat him to it.

“Billa!” F’lar called out. “Look around!”

All eyes turned to the Weyrleader who nodded back towards the floor. Tilda, her energy still bordering on that of a child, noticed the dragonets first. She went still, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in shock. Then she gave a shriek of mingled joy and surprise before all but flying across the sands to one of the greens. The dragonet preened under the attention as the woman-child murmured and cooed at her while gesturing for meat.

With the obvious joy bursting from Tilda, perhaps it should have been no surprise that only a few eyes caught and observed as Billa Impressed her own dragonet. The woman moved forward in a light sort of daze, disbelief flickering in her face, to kneel next to the young creature. T’rin stood too far away to hear the words she seemed to be whispering, but the green rubbed her head against Billa’s shoulder in a clear attempt to offer comfort.

Orcrith’s voice broke into T’rin’s observations. _*You are being watched.*_

The bronze rider looked up and around, scanning the Grounds until his eyes met a calculating amber. He raised an eyebrow and F’lar indicated Billa with his chin before shifting his gaze to Tauriel and back. T’rin blinked in surprise and then paused to consider. Few women rode greens as yet, and Tauriel would be the best for helping the new riders adjust. He looked back to his Weyrleader as he reached out to Orcrith. _*Have Mnementh tell F’lar that we can take one or both as he decides.*_

F’lar tilted his head in a listening position and then nodded to T’rin. The bronze rider watched as the Weyrleader turned and began speaking to the Weyrwoman. Lessa’s own gaze shifted from Billa to T’rin to F’lar as she responded.

“More female riders for the Wing?” F’li murmured as K’li and Tauriel continued to watch the Hatching.

“Possibly,” T’rin agreed. “They’ll do better with Tauriel anyway.”

“Should be interesting,” his nephew replied, giving him a sideways look. “Considering Tauriel follows Billa’s lead in most things.”

“She’s only known her for a few months,” T’rin snorted, though he did his best to keep his voice low. He eyed his rider where she sat next to his younger nephew, oblivious to their discussion.

“It’s something about Billa,” F’li shrugged. A small hint of a frown furrowed his brow. “She…” He paused and then tried again. “It’s like you’re the only person around or the only one whose troubles matter when you talk to her.” Then he chuckled. “And Billa’s good at calling you three kinds of a fool while helping you figure out how to fix whatever caused the problem to begin with.”

“Oh?” T’rin let the thought turn over in his mind as the Hatching finished and the weyrlings were ushered out with their dragonets. The galleries began to empty as people made their way to the feast, but T’rin had a different idea in mind. If the new greens were to join his Wing, then he needed to get to know their riders – the sooner the better. Their well-being would be his responsibility as Wingleader, so he needed to know their strengths and weaknesses. They would need to be incorporated into the Wing, sooner rather than later as with most weyrlings. He wanted their place firm and accepted before they started fighting Thread.

 _*They have two Turns before that happens.*_ Orcrith reminded him.

 _*I know.*_ T’rin replied as he nodded to F’li and the others, indicating they should start towards the feast. _*But you remember the first time Tauriel flew with us.*_ Too many of the riders tried to shield the green and her rider rather than focusing on their own fight. Their dragons got caught between their riders’ wishes and their own instincts. Their percentage of injuries took a dramatic jump upwards. 

_*Foolish.*_

T’rin found it difficult to disagree. The days after that disastrous Threadfall found his Wing grounded so his injured – both dragon and rider – could recover. He had used that time to good effect though – putting his riders through hell for their idiocy. Now they held a great deal more respect for Tauriel and Aubrith, but T’rin had no desire for a repeat with a new pair of weyrlings.

 _*The little one and the solemn one are returning from their weyrs.*_ T’rin could almost feel Orcrith shaking out his wings as he stretched and peered about. _*I do not see Billa.*_

_*I’ll find her.*_

T’rin moved through the Bowl towards the Weyrling barracks. For the moment Billa, Sigrid, and Tilda would stay together in one corridor, and since Orcrith has seen the sisters making their way towards the feast and a reunion with their father, Billa must still be with her dragonet. The little green should be sleeping after a first good feeding, but sometimes the dragons went with their own whims – much like their riders.

Sure enough, as he neared the barracks, he spotted the pair sitting on some grass between the training grounds and the lake. He changed directions and made his way towards them, letting his footfalls sound heavier than necessary to avoid startling them. By the time he reached their side, Billa had a polite smile on her face while her little green looked at him with calm, half-asleep eyes, blue and green facets whirling in a slow pattern.

“She not sleepy?” T’rin asked as he crouched down beside them. The easy question should help put them even more at ease.

It worked. Billa’s steady manners melted into affection as she glanced at the large head resting in her lap. “She insists she’s ‘not that tired’,” the woman chuckled. “We’re enjoying the night breeze while she continues to pretend she’s not falling asleep.”

“Dragons are stubborn,” T’rin gave his own chuckle as he reached out to scratch the green’s eye ridge. He paused, glancing at Billa for permission. She blinked in surprise, but gave a quick nod. The green cooed and her eyelids drooped as he did so. “She’s forgetting that while she may have eaten, you have not.” 

Yellow flecks appeared in the multifaceted eyes as they opened and turned towards Billa. The young woman set to soothing her charge. “No, don’t get worried. I wasn’t hungry before.” The green dragonet heaved herself to her feet. Billa gave T’rin a look. “You’ve upset her.”

“She’d be reacting worse if she were that worried,” he pointed out, rising to his feet. He held a hand out to help her up. “But you both have to learn how to work together. Her needs are important, yes, and she’s the younger, so you must watch out for her.” T’rin pulled Billa to her feet and then put his hands on her shoulders and gave a small shake. “But she is your _partner_ ,” he emphasized. “The two of you must be equals in the relationship. Therefore your needs are just as important.” A melodic trill of chirps seemed to punctuate his sentence and he glanced down. “Thank you,” he told the green, offering her a smile. 

She preened and Billa laughed even as she stepped back out of his hold. “She’s decided she likes you.”

“Good to know,” he smiled, though his hands felt a little empty. “Come one,” he gestured, trying to cover the moment. “Let’s get her to her weyr and you to the feast. She’ll sleep through the night with that feeding, but the morning will come much too early if I remember my first night correctly.”

_*You do.*_

Billa tilted her head. “Orcrith spoke to you?” she asked as they began to walk towards the walls of the Bowl.

“Yes,” he nodded, lifting an eyebrow at her. “How did you know?”

“Your eyes went a little…vacant,” she replied, waving her hands a little. “Not vacant as in lost or anything, but just like you weren’t…well, _there_ for a moment.”

“Probably an apt enough description,” he shrugged. “Sharing minds that way…I’m probably only half here when we’re speaking. Half is with him.”

“It’s so strange,” she shook her head. “To have her there, with me in my mind, knowing I’ll never be alone again. And when she first spoke…”

T’rin cleared his throat as the memory of his Impression of Orcrith came clear in his mind. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? Most riders find it that way. They… _we_ can’t seem to grasp why they chose us…of all people.”

“It was…” Billa’s voice trailed away, her voice catching with awe. She closed her eyes. “My parents loved me,” she noted in an apparent change of topic. T’rin had no chance to reply before she continued. “They loved me, but my brother would be the one to inherit everything, so they spent a good deal of time with him, raising him to be the heir. They made sure I received a proper education, thinking I would use it as either the lady of my own household or as a Crafter should I be called to such, but other than that they left me to my own devices. I knew people, of course, but I always wanted something more, something beyond out little hold, so people thought me odd. When it came to choosing a future, hold or craft… I never…I never felt called to either. Running a household has its own challenges, but I prefer working with people, but none of the Crafts drew me towards becoming an apprentice.” She paused and considered. “Though, I’ll grant you, it was a close thing when Benden hosted a Craft fair. I probably spent a good hour talking with one of the master weavers.”

T’rin’s eyebrows rose. “What held you back?” 

“I…I don’t know,” Billa shook her head. “I just… Something didn’t feel quite right about it. It felt like it wasn’t where I needed to be.” She glanced down at the green dragonet who shifted and yawned at her feet. Loving fondness slipped over the woman’s face as she reached down to scratch behind one eye ridge. “Yes, I suppose I was waiting for you to come along, though you took your time.” She covered her mouth with one hand and looked back up to T’rin, eyes glittering with suppressed laughter. “I’ve been told, in a somewhat haughty way, that dragons come exactly when they mean to – neither early nor late,” she managed to get out without losing control of her amusement. “She’s a little sassy.”

“Like dragon, like rider,” he teased, a small grin tugging at his mouth. Billa blinked at him, a startled surprise entering her expression. He felt a small unexpected pang of unhappiness as he understood how much his previous dismissive aloofness bothered her. That would have to change. She was a fellow rider now, and if F’lar’s earlier consideration came to anything, T’rin would have both her and Tilda in his Wing. “You haven’t introduced us yet,” T’rin prompted when Billa seemed at a loss of how to continue. “What’s her name?”

“Her name is Eilinth.” Affectionate pride surged in her gaze, driving out the confusion. “Eilinth, this is T’rin, rider of bronze Orcrith.”

T’rin stopped and crouched down once more, bringing himself eye to eye with the green dragonet and held out a hand. “Well met, Eilinth.”

Eilinth chirped and nuzzled against the palm he held out towards her. She turned her eyes on Billa.

“She says ‘thank you again’,” Billa told him, now much more at ease in his company. Her eyes turned contemplative. “Is it odd, that they know so much when they are so young? Words, concepts…” She shook her head.

“That’s a hard one to answer,” he replied. “Much of what they know so young comes from what they get from us. It’s possible they are conscious in some way in the egg and learn in that way, but it may be that she is picking up the words and concepts from you.” He shook his head. “I’m not the one to ask. You might try B’lin.”

“I just might.”

They reached the temporary weyr they would be in for the next two Turns. T’rin kept a respectful distance and watched as Billa settled Eilinth into sleep. She walked towards him, glancing back once at the green form curled into a ball on the cushions. 

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “She’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I know,” Billa assured him. “I just…” She laughed. “I keep expecting to wake up and find I’ve dreamed this entire thing.”

“No dream, Weyrling Billa,” he replied, giving her a grin when she started at the new title. “Welcome to a whole new world, a whole new life,” he continued. 

“Amazing,” she murmured. “How can this possibly be real?”

“It’s real, I promise. Now come along,” he gestured towards the other end of the Bowl. “Food is that way.” He paused and then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Would you care to join some of my Wing for the feast?” Her eyes went wide and round as she looked at him. “D’lin and N’ri will want to congratulate you, for one,” he hurried to point out. “As well as themselves for being so clever as to pick you on Search.” His tone turned wry and she giggled. “It will do you good to interact with everyone as a group. You’ll be part of a Wing soon.”

“Now that part frightens me,” she admitted. “Not so much being part of a Wing, though that will seem odd, but…well, being part of a Wing fighting Thread.”

He gave a small scoff. “I’d worry about your sanity if it didn’t,” he told her. He walked beside her, silent for a moment as he mused over her words. “You won’t be alone,” he finally replied. He stopped and stared down at her. “I’m not going to tell you it won’t be frightening anyway because I would be lying, and you’re not an idiot.” She chuckled and his lips pulled up in a half-grin. “But you won’t be alone,” he repeated. “You’ll have an entire Wing around you to depend on – even as they will depend on you.” That caused her to straighten…rather as he expected. From what he had seen of Billa when he was not trying to ignore her, she always seemed to respond best when someone needed her.

_*Not that you were all that good at ignoring her.*_

T’rin tossed a glare towards the rim of the Bowl where he knew Orcrith perched to enjoy looking at the stars. *You shut up.* The deep rumbling laugh he got in return caused him to roll his eyes. He glanced down and found Billa watching him with raised eyebrows. “Nothing,” he answered her unspoken question. “Just Orcrith putting his version of sarcastic commentary. Directed at me, mind you,” he clarified when a hint of concern flashed across her face. 

“Oh, good,” she smiled. “I’d hate to think I’d given a bad impression.”

“That’s not the case.” T’rin’s smile softened. “He likes you.” A light pink color rose in her cheeks and he cleared his throat. “That’s the other reason you won’t be alone,” he yanked his attention back on to their original topic. “You will always have Eilinth with you.”

“I know.” Her entire face grew tender as she tossed a look back towards where her new lifemate slept. “I know.” A breeze caught her hair as she turned back, blowing some of it into her face.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t, T’rin reached out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. 

A new shyness entered her expression and she ducked her eyes for a moment. Seeming to gather her courage, she peered up at him through her lashes. “Thank you,” she acknowledged, but then caught her lower lip between her teeth.

The two of them stood there staring at one another, frozen in the moment – with his hand still at her cheek and her eyes still locked to his. T’rin did not know how long they might have stayed in that place, unmoving, paying no attention to the world around them, but a sudden burst of music and laughter from the celebrations at the far end of the Bowl caused them to spring apart. He found himself clearing his throat yet again. “The…ah, the feast,” he managed to get out despite the flush he could feel crawling up his face.

“Yes, we should…we should probably get back there before someone comes looking for you. Goodness knows with the way D’lin, F’li, and K’li behave, I’m surprised they haven’t already started combing the place trying to find you. Plus I did promise Bombur I would try his new dessert tonight. I think he wants to send the recipe to his brother if it’s any good. Apparently his brother is a Master Harper with a bit of a sweet tooth.” Billa brushed her hands down her tunic, nerves clear as she rambled.

“After you,” T’rin gestured, though he fell into step beside her as she began to walk forward once more. They walked in silence for a few moments, but he stopped her before they could enter into the brightly lit area of the feast. “Billa,” he used her name with deliberate formality. “Remember when you walk in that door, you are now a dragonrider – weyrling or no. You owe respect to the Craft Masters and Lord Holders, but no fealty.”

Billa nodded, accepting the advice in the spirit it was offered. “Thank you, T’rin,” she replied. “Truly, thank you…and…ah…is the offer to join your table still…?” She left the question unfinished, her teeth moving to catch her lip once more.

“Come along,” T’rin offered in reply, keeping his voice light in an effort to avoid the chancy emotions hiding in the shadows behind them. “Let’s see how often D’lin and N’ri pat themselves on the back tonight, shall we?”

She laughed and they stepped into the light.


End file.
